Previously...

James was bound to a wheelchair after his brain surgery.  Having spent the past five months searching for Brooke, he received help from a reporter named Janet Harper, who tracked Brooke down in Phoenix.  Meanwhile, Miranda traveled to Phoenix to bring Stormy home after he and Lauren parted ways during her tour. Brett, having assumed an executive position at Sunset Studios during James' illness, had been sleeping with Gwen Hardisty, the private nurse hired to care for James.  Miranda became manager of Hotel Terranova, one of James' fashionable resort hotels in the Hollywood Hills. Jordan and Alex faced difficulties in their new marriage.  Alex considered going into business with Marilee.  Ethan began working for Will Thomerson when James ostracized him from the family for his afffair with Brooke.  Meanwhile, Heather had become romantically involved with Will in hopes that he would help her with her film career.  While at a mall in Phoenix, Miranda and Stormy ran into an eight months pregnant Brooke working at a department store.

Episode 25

"Asked and Answered"

Lunch at Hotel Terranova was an experience all its own.  The intimate restaurant just off the lobby was packed with dapper businessmen, elegant women, and guests who stayed at the four diamond property to benefit from the world-renowned tennis instructors, riding yards, golf ranges, and beautiful swimming pools.  Some of the most famous faces in music performed there nightly, turning the seemingly casual atmosphere into an elegant affair of world-class taste.

Will, Ethan and Heather were seated at their table and menus were thrust before them.  Ethan continuously looked up at Heather who sat uncomfortably close to Will’s side.

“Have anything you want, Princess,” Will said, holding Heather’s hand in his.  “You look like you could stand to gain a pound or two.”

Laughing his remark off, Heather poured over the menu, fully aware that Ethan was still staring at her with burning intensity.  It looked odd with such a young woman with an older man.  She knew this and she was used to the stares. But if it benefited her career…

“So don’t keep me in suspense any longer, Ethan,” Will said to the young man.  “I’m dying to hear what you thought of The Murderess.”

“I loved it,” Ethan replied coolly.  “The writer obviously knows his characters.  The plot was believable, yet intense.  And the ending was pure Hollywood genius.”

Smiling with approval, Will folded his hands firmly on the table.  “Good.  Then you’ll start working on getting the rights as soon as possible?”

Ethan nodded his reply and looked hastily around the restaurant.  He wondered if Miranda would see them there.  They’d always been close but their relationship had been strained since Brooke left town.  After word got out that her might be the father of her baby, thanks to Winter Austen’s machinations, he was less than welcome with any of the Blackthornes.

“I see an associate I’d like to say hello to,” Will announced.  He kissed Heather on the cheek before he stood up and made his way across the room.

After he was safety out of earshot, Ethan leaned in and whispered to Heather.  “How much longer is this going to go on?” he asked.

“What?”  She pretended she didn’t know what he was referring to.

“What?  You and Will.  What on earth do you have in common?  I’m sorry, Heather, I just don’t get what you see in him.    He’s twenty years older than you.  I’ve held my tongue as long as I could.”

She gritted her teeth and snapped her menu closed.  “Like you have any room to dish out advice on relationships?” she hissed.  “Are you forgetting about that nutcase Winter Austen?  Or the fact that you slept with James Blackthorne’s wife?”

With a sigh, Ethan leaned back and realized she had a point.  He hadn’t exactly made the best choices when it came to women.  But what Heather was doing was purely premeditated.  “What do you think you’re going to get out of this?”

“He said he’d help me, okay?” Heather spat, standing up from the table and throwing her napkin down.  “Excuse me.  I have to go freshen up.”

Ethan rubbed his hand across his face and watched Heather storm away.   He knew that they were using each other and it made his stomach turn.  One thing he knew of for sure was that Will Thomerson had it out for three people who’d crossed him.  Jordan Rydell, Alex Reynolds, and James Blackthorne.  He had a feeling that Heather was the pawn in his game against Jordan.  And strangely, she was falling for it.

“Brooke, what are you doing here?” Miranda asked in a shrill voice. “Never mind, I forgot you were the queen of the Sherman Oaks Galleria before my father took you in.  I hope you realize how much trouble you’ve caused.  Everyone’s been looking for you.”

Brooke looked at her plainly.  She was twenty-eight and her once youthful, glowing complexion was tired and listless.  Her long blond hair was tied back in a plain ponytail and her pregnant stomach looked as if it were ready to burst.

“Well now you’ve found me,” she said solemnly.  “So what are you going to do?”

“First of all-“ Miranda began, throwing her hands up in a tantrum before Stormy stepped forward and silenced her.

“Brooke, why did you take off like that?” he asked sympathetically.  “My Dad’s been worried sick.  Ethan too.  You’re carrying a baby.  Whose baby it is nobody knows but you.  Don’t you think you owe it to them to go back and straighten this out?”

Her eyes sunk to the floor and she shook her head. “I can’t,” she said.  “I just don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“It’s a little late for that!” Miranda exclaimed, trying to force her way toward her.

“Stop it,” Stormy warned her with a cold stare.  “Look, I’m just as guilty as you are.  I took off for five months.  That’s why we’re here.  Miranda brought the jet.  Brooke, you can come with us.  You can go back to L.A. and at least give the father of your baby a fighting chance.  Whoever he is.”

“It’s too late for that,” Brooke insisted, her eyes welling up with tears as she nervously fidgeted with a tray of mascaras.  She took a deep breath and looked up at Stormy again.  “I heard about James on the news.  About the surgery.  Why didn’t he tell me?”

“He didn’t tell anyone,” Stormy replied.

“Kenny DeWitt called me the morning of the surgery,” Miranda explained.  “Daddy was too afraid to tell anyone.”

“How is he now?” Brooke asked, her voice filled with concern.  She hated the thought of James going through such a traumatic ordeal, compiled on top of her taking off without a word.  It wasn’t the best way to handle things but she felt she had no choice.

“He can’t walk,” Miranda replied matter-of-factly.    “He’s in a wheelchair. They say it might be forever.”

Brooke closed her eyes as tears began to form.  “Oh my God,” she whispered.

Angry that her soft side was about to show, Miranda folded her arms across her ample bosom and attempted to maintain a rigid expression on her face.  “Look, I know we’ve never gotten along but I do know how much my father loves you.  He’s been a mess since you left.  I’m afraid that until this thing is resolved, he won’t have the motivation to push himself.  If that happens then he’ll stay in that chair and become a hermit.”

Frustrated and confused, Brooke turned just as Philip Whitacre approached, a hearty smile on his handsome, tanned face.   He walked up and kissed her lightly on the cheek.  “Hey Babe.  I know how hungry you get in the morning so I brought you a bagel.”

Brooke took a small paper bag from him and vaguely smiled.  

“What’s this?” Miranda asked, her voice rising to a high-pitched squeal.  “Are you back together with this guy?”

“No, it’s not like that-“

“Oh really?  It sure looks that way to me!” Miranda exclaimed, staring Philip up and down and clenching her fists in anger.  “It isn’t bad enough that you lied to my father about your first marriage, but now you’re back with your ex-husband?  I suppose you told him he’s the father too.”

“Nice to see you again too,” Philip said with a smarmy smile.  He was twenty-nine, a chiseled hunk with dark hair and dark eyes that brooded mysteriously.

“We’re not together,” Brooke insisted, growing more agitated by the second.  “I had no where else to go so I came back to Phoenix.  I ran into Philip and he offered to let me stay with him until I got on my feet.”

“That was five months ago,” Miranda said, shooting Stormy an angry look and then pointed a thin finger at Brooke.  “You mean to tell me you’re living with him but you’re not together?”

“No!” Brooke lamented, then shook her head in confusion. “I mean yes!  God, why did you have to come here?  Why did you have to walk into this mall and mess everything up!”

With that, she turned and ran down the corridor to the back of the store, leaving Philip, Stormy and Miranda behind in mass confusion.  Miranda’s cell phone rang and she plucked it from her purse to answer.

“Hello?” she said absently, then paused and waited a beat.  “What?”

“What is it?” Stormy asked with a frown.

She blew a strand of hair from her eyes and crossed her arms.  “The pilot has to go back to L.A.”

“Why?”

“To pick up our father,” she replied.  “He’s coming here.”

Back at Sunset Studios in Hollywood, Brett sat in his office overlooking the enormous lot where dozens of extras, camera crews, and prop people ran back and forth with a sense of urgency.  He reached across the desk and took the bottle of pills from the unsavory looking character before him. 

“You’re sure these are safe?” Brett asked, looking at the plain label on the orange bottle of pills.  He opened the top and poured a few out into the palm of his hand.  They were big and white with a thick line down the center.  “I don’t want him dead.”

“Are you sure about that?” the man asked.

Brett looked at him with disgust.  “Of course I’m sure,” he barked.  “Now I’m going to ask you again.  Are these safe?”

The man could sense the severity in Brett’s voice so he offered a quick nod of his head.  “Yeah, they’re safe,” he replied.  “They're a kind of muscle relaxer.  He’ll feel weak and fatigued all the time.”

“So the chances of him regaining the feeling in his legs are pretty slim?” Brett asked ominously looking down at the pills in his hand.

“As long as he’s taking these pills, he won’t have the strength to walk again.”

Brett took a deep breath and poured the pills back into the container.  “What about long term effects?  What if he keeps taking them indefinitely?”

“Then he’ll be in the wheelchair indefinitely.  Over time they’ll cause too much damage and he’ll never walk again.”

Brett pocketed the pills and handed the man a stack of hundred dollar bills.  “Thank you for your time,” he said.  “And for your discretion.”

Heather and Will stood in his bedroom at his sizeable estate in Hollywood.  He crept up behind her and kissed her neck, looking at their reflection in the mirror.   She started to pull away but forced herself to remain available to him.  It was all for the good of her career.

“I don’t know why you put up with me,” Will said, his blondish brown hair falling lazily into his eyes.

She managed a faint smile. “What do you mean?”

His reply came in pieces, hurried between kisses and passionate embraces.  “A girl as young and beautiful as you with an older man like myself.”  He laughed a little in spite of himself.  “But you’ve never had it so good, have you?”

She almost had to laugh at his arrogance.  Yes, as a matter of fact I have had it as good, and better, she wanted to say.  You have nothing on Stormy, that’s for sure.  But that was over with now.  She had moved on.  She’d married Stormy for love, and she was determined not to make the same mistake again.  Her relationship with Will Thomerson was purely for her own benefit.  Yes, he was attractive, but there was no long term appeal.

“Why don’t you move in here with me?” Will asked, turning her around to face him.

She laughed and started to move away.  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Am I being ridiculous?” Will asked as he followed her across the room.  “You’re living in James Blackthorne’s house.  And why?  You’re practically divorced from Stormy.  He’s no doubt gone off on some five-month long sexcapade.   You have no ties to that family anymore.  Why would you want to put yourself through that?”

“Because it’s better than living with my arrogant, self-involved father,” she replied matter-of-factly.

Will sighed and pulled her into an embrace.  “Princess, I just want what’s best for you,” he said.  “You’ve made a happy man out of me these last few months.  I want to return the favor.”

“You will,” Heather said, allowing him to lower her dress off her shoulders.  “By putting me in your film, remember?’

He smiled sickly.  “Ah yes,” he said as he pushed her down onto the bed.  “How could I forget?”

Brooke paced around the small two-bedroom apartment in Phoenix, nervously wringing her hands together as she tried desperately to remain calm.   What were the odds of Miranda and Stormy showing up at the mall where she worked?  Now her attempt at getting away from L.A. and that house in Hollywood was shot to pieces.  She'd have no choice but to face the music now.  James and Ethan would demand an answer from her this time. 

A car door slammed outside and she ran to the window to see who it was.  To her relief, Philip was coming through the courtyard surrounding the pool.  He pushed open the door and immediately saw the tense expression on Brooke's face.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pushing his black hair from his forehead and making his way through the living room.  "You took off so fast and just left me with those two."

"Did they follow you?"

Philip shook his head.  "What is going on?" he asked.  "You never told me that you were running away.  You just told me that things didn't work out in L.A."

Starting to pace again, Brooke placed a hand on her stomach and wished she could start the day all over again.  Not go to work and not have to deal with the Blackthornes.    "I didn't run away, I just got fed up with everyone bullying me all the time."  She paused and looked at Philip with plaintiff eyes.  "I was so confused.  I didn't know where else to go."

Philip took her hand in his and sat her down on the old worn out sofa.  "I know, that's why I took you in and said I'd help you.  I still mean that Brooke.  These last few months have been incredible.  I feel like I finally have something to look forward to.  This baby means everything to me.  So do you."

Sighing with regret, Brooke pulled her hand away and tilted her head to the side.  "But it's not your baby, Philip.  And I never asked you to help me when it comes.  I still plan on taking my savings and moving out as soon as I can.  I've burdened you enough already."

"No you haven't."  He shook his head adamantly.  "And I don't care if it's not my baby.  I want you to stay here.  There's no reason you should leave."

Brooke stood up in a hurry and threw her hands up in despair.  "You don't know what you're saying," she said.  "We're not together, Philip.  You know that.  This has just been an arrangement-"

He smiled slyly and followed her across the room.  "I know we're not together."  With a slow, easy movement he slid his hand over hers and pulled her toward him.  "But I can't help but hope that things will change after the baby comes.  You want a father for your baby, don't you?"

Quickly, she pulled away and shook her head insistently.   “Philip, I don’t feel that way about you anymore.  I’ve told you that.”

He decided to put his agenda aside for the moment.  The past few months of living with Brooke had reawakened old feelings.  He wanted her back and wanted to be a family with her and the baby.  Nothing was going to stop that.

“So what are you going to do?” he asked as if she owed him an explanation.  “Are you going to tell the father?  Are you going back to L.A.?”

Gwen led James down the ramp in his wheelchair safely onto the tarmac of the airport in Phoenix.   Miranda and Stormy were standing nearby, the warm breeze gusting against them as they approached cautiously, both fearing their father’s wrath.

“Daddy, I’m sorry about taking the jet again,” Miranda began as they met up halfway.

James glared at her with contempt.  "We'll deal with that later," he began, then cast his gaze on Stormy who appeared beside Miranda.  "Stormy," he said with a cold nod of his head.

"Hi Dad," Stormy replied glumly, his hands dug deeply in his pockets.  He hated the way his father could revert him to feeling like a nine-year-old boy all over again.  "Listen, I'm sorry that I-"

James cut him off quickly.  "We'll deal with that later, too."  It was no secret he was disappointed in his only son.  Taking off five months ago without a word, and then only managing a single phone call to check up on his family since then.  It wasn't the kind of morals he'd instilled in his children and it made him see red.  "I have someone meeting me here.  She's found Brooke and she's taking me to her."

"We sort of ran into her too," Miranda announced uneasily.  "At the mall.  She was…uh…working at the makeup counter."

James's expression was one of shock and horror.  "Damnit," he whispered quietly to himself.